


fill me up

by ToAStranger



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bondage, Come Inflation, Daddy Kink, Dark!Billy, Exhibitionism, Fem!Harringrove, Humiliation, M/M, Multi, Sex Toys, Tentacles, Vaginal Fingering, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 08:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 10,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20111803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToAStranger/pseuds/ToAStranger
Summary: A series of unconnected one-shots, all prompt fills.Chapters tagged for pairing and main kink in Chapter Title.





	1. harringrove; daddy kink - cum inflation - humiliation

**Author's Note:**

> Unedited from their original posting on Tumblr.

When Billy comes back, Steve’s still right where he left him. 

He’s panting, shivering, cock limp and dripping between his legs. The plug is still buzzing away in his ass, knees still spread by the bar between them, hands still bound behind his back. There’s a wet spot, by his mouth, from the drool rolling down his chin. From the tears that have escape the blindfold. He’s bent over, resting on the cushions, sweat glistening on his skin. The headphones are still in place, still playing a low steady beat that drowns out everything else. 

He’s lovely. His belly is round, distended from behind pumped so full, just a soft swell below his navel. 

Billy pads over and slaps his ass, without warning, right on the base of the plug– just to watch Steve jump and hear him yelp. 

Carefully, Billy removes the headphones. Then, he unclasps the gag– pulling the insertion keeping Steve’s mouth full free so he can suck in breath after unsteady breath. 

“Daddy,” he rasps. “Daddy, _please_. Turn it off.” 

“Turn it off?” Billy asks, trailing his fingers down Steve’s spine. “But it looks like you enjoyed yourself so much, baby. Isn’t this what gets you off? Being kept full of my cum, just like this?” 

Steve whines, twitching under his touch. “Yes, daddy. Thank you.” 

“Good boy,” Billy says, kissing at the center of his back. “Gotta give a slut like you what he wants, right? Keep you happy and _full_. You’re so full, baby. Like you’re _pregnant_.” 

Steve shudders, bucking as Billy nudges at the base of the toy, angles it and presses it against his prostate. He cries out, fingers flexing and then curling tight. He squirms. 

“You like that idea?” Billy laughs. “Like the idea of daddy knocking you up?” 

“_Yes, daddy_.” 

Billy clicks his tongue. “What a cum hungry slut.” 

“Yes– Yes, daddy,” Steve pants, jerking as Billy plays with the toy in him. 

“Ask me for more.” 

“Please– please, daddy, fuck me. Cum in me.” 

Billy hums. “Good boy.” 


	2. fem!Harringrove; exhibitionism

Stevie jumps as a hand starts creeping up her thigh. She reaches down, quick, and snatches up Billy’s wrist. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” she hisses. 

Billy grins, her teeth so white in contrast to the red of her lips; she looks like a predator. She looks like she wants to eat Stevie up. 

“Just having a little fun,” Billy says. “C’mon. You can’t tell me you’re _actually_ trying to study.” 

“Um,” Stevie huffs. “It’s _study hall_. So, _yeah_.” 

Billy licks her lips. “Come help me find a book, then.” 

And then she’s taking Stevie’s hand and dragging her up. Pulling her along, toward the back of the library. Toward the history section where no one ever goes. 

Billy’s grinning, delighted, when she pulls Stevie around the corner and shuffles her back until Stevie’s pressed to the stacks. Until she’s got her pinned in. There’s something bright in her eyes, something wicked, and Stevie knows it means she’s up to no fucking good.

“Don’t give me that look, princess.” Billy says, dipping her head to kiss at her cheek. “We’re just gonna have a little fun.” 

“Your version of fun and _my _version of fun, tend to be two different things,” Stevie mumbles, but Billy’s got a thigh creeping between hers and her fingers are bunching up Stevie’s skirt. “We’re gonna get _caught.” _

_“_You think so?” Billy asks, teeth against her jaw, laughing as Stevie jumps when her fingers find the heat of her through her panties. “I think, if you’re _really quiet_, I can get you off right here and no one will ever know.” 

And, well. That’s a _challenge_, isn’t it? And Stevie hates backing down from Billy’s challenges. As a general rule, she _doesn’t. _

So, she tips her chin up and meets Billy’s gaze. “Fine. But don’t expect me to return the favor.” 

Billy’s grin goes wide. And then, her fingers are slipping under Stevie’s panties, getting at the slick folds of her pussy. Petting, slow, just to get Stevie twitching and rocking forward for more. Just to get her nice a wet with the anticipation. 

Then, she sinks two fingers into her. Stevie gasps, clutching at Billy’s shoulders, head thunking back against a shelf. 

“Shh, princess.” Billy hushes her, getting an arm around her waist and _curling her fingers_. “You’re gonna get us _caught_.” 

It sends a thrill right up her spine. Stevie slaps a hand over her own mouth, muffling her moan, and Billy– Billy doesn’t even give her a _second_. Just starts fucking her, so good, with her fingers. Steady and unrelenting. Touching her just right. 

She kisses and bites at Stevie’s neck. Keeps her hand moving, fast, her palm grinding against Stevie’s clit as she fingers her within an _inch of her goddamn life_. 

It doesn’t take long. Stevie’s not sure if it’s because of the pace or because of the risk of being caught, but she’s already right there, on the edge, in no time. 

She drops her hand and clutches at Billy’s nape, fingers tangling in her curls, and tugging Billy’s mouth away from her neck in order to catch it with her own. In order to muffle her keen in a sloppy kiss as she cums with a gush over Billy’s fingers. 

Billy works her through it– always brings her back down, nice and sweet– until she’s gasping and trembling. Until she’s slumped back against the bookshelf. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Billy whispers against her lips. “So fucking perfect, Stevie.” 

Stevie blushes, bucking a little as Billy moves her fingers inside of her. “_Fuck_.” 

“Yeah,” Billy hums, and starts pumping her fingers idly; then, she adds a _third_. “Yeah, baby. That’s the idea.” 


	3. Mind Flayer/Steve Harrington; Harringrove; tentacles - overstimulation

When Steve comes to, it’s in the dark. 

He’s not sure where he is, just that it’s pitch black. Just that it’s kind of hard to breathe. He thinks he’s dreaming. 

When he tries to move, something tightens, all around him. He can hear the rustle of it, of something organic through dead leaves. Tension ripples up through him. He pulls, at his hands, and hisses as something winds around his wrists and yanks taut. He kicks his feet and feels something cool and slick snake up his calves and _squeeze_. 

“It’s useless.” 

Steve goes still. He knows that voice, even with the eerie deep cadence. He blinks through the shadows and squints as a lighter flicks and catches. 

Billy Hargrove is standing there, leaning against the thick trunk of a tree, lighting a cigarette. 

Billy Hargrove is _dead_. He shouldn’t be standing there, watching Steve with burning blue eyes, dragging smoke into his lungs. 

Steve stares in dawning horror as Billy pushes off the tree and pads closer. There’s a grey slate to his skin. There’s blood on his shirt. There’s a cut on his cheek, bleeding black. 

“Hargrove, what–?” 

“Trying to get away,” Billy says, crouching down next to him, reaching out. “It’s useless.” 

Steve’s skin jumps when fingers trail over his stomach. He’s _naked_. This _has_ to be a dream. A nightmare. 

Above them, somewhere in the distance, lightning flashes red and floods the space with a crimson glow. Highlights everything in a shade so dark; a world of darkness and blood. The trees loom above them, groaning, clawing toward the sky. Billy’s profile is silhouetted in red; his eyes _glow_. 

Steve twists against whatever is holding him. Thrashes. It just tightens its hold. 

“Easy,” Billy says, with a dark laugh, dragging on his cigarette again, _watching_ Steve struggle. “It’ll be easier if you relax. Let it happen.” 

“What– What’ll be easier?” Steve asks, throat tight, fingers flexing uselessly. 

Billy’s hand drifts up, up– fingers cold and trailing over Steve’s skin like _fire_. He grips Steve’s jaw, feather light, and then painfully tight. 

He stamps out the cigarette in the brush by Steve’s head, leaning down. There are tears in his eyes, rolling down his right cheek. When he speaks, he doesn’t sound like Billy. 

“_Letting Him in_.” 

And then Billy’s mouth is on his. 

Steve jerks, letting out a muffled sound, startles hard. He doesn’t move very far, but he tries to keep his lips shut tight as he feels a slick tongue against them. 

But then Billy’s fingers at digging in at the hinge of his jaw. So tight that it aches and Steve can’t help but gasp. But then Billy’s tongue is slipping past his lips, his teeth, into his mouth– slick and _warm_– and there’s something– there’s _something_. 

Something fluid. Something thick and viscous. Something dripping along his tongue and flooding his mouth. Steve sputters, trying to spit it out, but Billy’s mouth is tight against his and his grip is unyielding. Steve feels something slick dribbled down out of the corner of his mouth, landing heavy on the ground by his head. 

He chokes on it. Gags.

Billy pulls back and covers Steve’s mouth; pinches his nose. 

“Swallow it all,” he says, lips smeared with _black_. “Take it in.” 

Steve thrashes. He gags again. He can’t _breathe_. 

“_Swallow_.” 

He does. 

It slides thick down his throat. Warm and slick and tingly. He feels it, in his chest and then his stomach. He shudders, gasping and retching, when Billy lets him go. 

“What– what the _fuck_, Billy–?” 

“Easy,” Billy says, pushing his hair back from his face, tilting his head as he looks down at him. “You _are_ pretty. Didn’t think he was right. But you are.” 

Steve feels something like _heat_ bloom in his belly. So heady and so sudden that he breaks into a sweat, shifting, squirming as it seems to build and build and _build_. 

“Billy–” 

Billy presses a thumb to his lips. Rubs at the seam of them. Clicks his tongue. 

“Silly boy,” that deep voice rumbles out of Billy’s mouth; in Steve’s _head_. “_Billy’s not here, right now_.” 

Everything moves, then. Shifts. Turns over and twists up. 

It’s a nightmare. _It’s a nightmare._

Because Billy’s between his legs, then. Because Steve’s burning up, aching, panting. Because there are vines– no, appendages– _tentacles_– pulling his legs up and apart. Dragging his hands up over his head. Lifting him off the ground and wrapping him up. 

He feels them twine up along his torso, thick and cool and slick. Feels one slide around his throat in a loose loop before going _tight_. Feels another, then another, then _another_ creep up his thigh. 

_So pretty_. The voice rings in his head. _So responsive. We’ve never tried it this way. _

_“_He wants you, you know.” Billy whispers to him, heated, as Steve strains and lets out a choked sound. “We both do. Though, maybe not for the same reasons.” 

His hands are on Steve then, and Steve’s skin feels _raw_. Feels like every touch, every move, is electric. Like a shock, right to his nervous system. He cries out, into the dark, and lightning flashes red above them. 

Billy’s hands splay out over his ribcage and he dips down. Lets his mouth fall open as he licks over one of Steve’s nipples. 

It makes him jerk. Makes him shake. Makes his cock jump, precum spurting from the tip.

Billy laughs. Cruel and low. 

“Can’t have that, can we?” he asks. 

Steve doesn’t know what he means, not until there’s a tentacle winding up around his cock. Not until it splits open at the tip, like a horrific flower blossoming, and latches onto the head of his dick. Not until he feels something squirming, worming, _wiggling_ it’s way into the tip. 

Steve _screams_. “Billy– Billy, please, you’ve gotta–” 

The appendage around his neck goes tight again. Slides around his throat until the head of it is dangling in front of his mouth. Steve’s eyes go wide, his throat clicks, as it blossoms open, too. 

It lunges, latches over his mouth, across his cheeks, and clasps on tight. He feels it pry his jaw open, feels it sink in, heavy on his tongue. Feels it thrust once, shallowly, and then again, deeper until it’s plunging down his throat. Until it’s pumping, _pumping_, dark fluid into his mouth. 

Steve chokes. He strains. He lets out a muffled wail. 

Tears roll down the sides of his face. Billy thumbs them away and brings it to his mouth. Sucks his fingers clean. He’s crying, Steve realizes, just like Steve. Petting over his skin, soothing him, as the heat in his stomach _grows_. Until it’s a flame and his cock is pulsing between his legs, like he’s about to cum, but it _never comes_. 

Just a knife edge of pleasure. Of pain. Of brutal, unending heat. 

He sobs. Shakes and strains a little before slumping. Before going totally lax in this monster’s hold. 

_Good_, he hears, crooning in his head. _Very good. It’ll be over soon. _

And then the tentacles coiling up his thighs begin to worm higher. He knows, already, what’s to come. He can feel it at the back of his head, not his own thoughts, but someone else’s. Something else’s. 

Like skimming his fingers over murky water and catching a glimpse of the bottom for a second. 

He arches as something nudges at the tight ring of muscle between his cheeks. As it presses– _presses_– steady and unyielding– until it pops past his rim. 

He spasms, all over, toes curling. There’s pain, for a brief second, and then it’s washed away by a cold so intense that it burns. He thinks that’s why he feels hot– that it’s so cold it’s like transmuted flame, flickering up along his insides. 

He feels a an edge of something crest over him again, his balls drawing up and his cock throbbing, but there’s no end. No relief. He sobs. 

“So good, Steve.” Billy whispers to him. “You’re taking Him in so _good_.” 

He’s kissing down Steve’s chest as the tentacle inches inside of him more. As another joins it and starts pressing in. As another follows that. As he’s split open, impaled, gasping in through his nose. Heaving in breath after sputtering breath. Eyes rolling back as the thing starts to _move_. 

There’s nothing but sensation after that. Just a constant rush of _feeling_. Of being _filled_. Totally and completely. 

_It’s a nightmare_, he thinks as it starts _fucking him_. 

Billy’s moaning, like it’s him that’s buried deep inside of Steve, hips rocking against Steve’s as the motion has him jerking. Has him twitching and spasming. Has him _cumming_, again and again, without ever finding relief. 

He’s sobbing by the time it all comes to an end. Begging, muffled and choked off, thrashing. Keening against his gag, and moaning– wanton and breathless. Needy. 

And then there’s fluid– sticky, slick, _thick– _pumping and pumping and _pumping _into him. So much of it. Down his throat, in his ass, in his _cock_. His ears are ringing. His eyes roll back. He nearly passes out. 

And then it’s all _gone_. It’s all retracting, slow, _careful_. Pulling free and unwinding from his skin. Settling him onto the ground. Leaving him feeling empty. _Alone_. 

_You’re never alone_, the voice hums, and Billy is still there, pushing his hair back as Steve blinks up at him, dazed and still hard; Billy is there, taking his cock in hand and stroking, stroking, and Steve’s back bows up off the ground as he cums. _You’ll never be alone, again. _

***

When Steve comes to, it’s dark. 

He’s in bed, sweating, the sheets soaked– with cum and something slick he doesn’t want to think about. He sits up, gasping, clutching at his chest. He doesn’t remember his dream, but he knows there was someone there with him. 

He’s alone. 

Somewhere, something at the back of his head _hums_. 


	4. Harringrove + Tommy; threesome - multiple penetration

They’re all high. And probably drunk. 

Tommy watches as Billy cackles when Steve knocks over a lamp. 

Okay, _definitely_ drunk. Stupid drunk. 

Which is probably why he doesn’t instantly get defensive when Billy lights up a cigarette and starts shotgunning it with Steve. Doesn’t even bat a lash as he watches their lips almost touch, as they breath smoke into each other’s mouths, as they look over at him with dark eyes and wide smiles. 

“Hey, _Tommy_,” Steve croons, climbing over the couch toward him, walking his fingers up his arm. “Wanna know what I was telling Billy?” 

Tommy grunts. He doesn’t like to admit it, but he shivers a little too. 

“Remember when we were, like, twelve? And we practiced kissing together?” Steve asks. 

Tommy slaps at him, face burning. “_Stevie_. That shit’s _private_. We _agreed_.” 

“Billy doesn’t care,” Steve says, grinning over his shoulder. “Do ya, Billy?” 

Billy watches them, eyes so blue, dragging on the cigarette as he shakes his head. “Not at all. In fact, I told Steve I’d like to _see it.” _

Tommy’s throat goes tight. But he’s drunk. And he’s high. And Carol broke up with him– _again_– for trying to get a look up Tammy Highdecker’s skirt during cheer leading practice. 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “Wanna show him?” 

Tommy is leaning forward before he can stop himself. Pressing his mouth clumsily to Steve’s. Getting a hand in his hair and kissing him hard. 

Steve makes a sound but goes with it. Leans _into _it. Kisses like a _girl_, the way he always fucking did, even when they were kids. Gets all buttery soft and sweet. 

Then, there’s a big hand at the back of his neck. Tommy jerks back, blinking as Billy crouches down in front of him. 

“Easy, Tommy,” he says. “Kiss him softer. Not like you’re trying to suck his face off.” 

Tommy blinks at him. “What the fuck is going on here?” 

Billy grins. “You gonna no homo on us, Tommy?” 

Steve smacks at him. “Be _nice_.” 

Tommy blinks again. “No?” 

“Good,” Billy says, catching Steve’s wrist and bringing it to his mouth, kissing his palm, eyes burning blue like liquid flame on Steve’s flushed face; if Tommy were sober, he might’ve gotten it a bit faster. “Because we have a proposition.” 

Tommy watches as Billy bites at the meat of Steve’s palm. Feels his cock jump at the way Steve’s breath hitches. 

“I’m listening.” 

Billy’s grin goes wide. Sharp. 

“Good.” 

***

Tommy would usually hate to admit it, but Steve’s _pretty_. He’s always been pretty. The girls always liked him more– his hair, his mouth, how tall he is– and Tommy hated to admit he was always _jealous_. He just could never really tell who he was jealous _of_. 

Not until now. Not until seeing Steve held to Billy’s chest, impaled on his cock, flush and so fucking _pretty_. 

“Get over here,” Billy grunts, rocking up a little, leaning back against Steve’s headboard, hands big on Steve’s chest and stomach, keeping Steve’s legs spread wide over his so that Tommy has the perfect view of Steve stretched out and sitting on Billy Hargrove dick. “C’mon. He’s ready.” 

Steve’s out of his mind, Billy means. Tommy knows that. Knows that he’s on the edge, just by how he whines with each breath. With how Billy had to keep a tight hold on Steve’s cock while he eased slick fingers in along with his cock. 

Tommy’s fit to burst, too. 

He knees up onto the bed, crawling over to them. He gets between their legs and hesitates. 

“C’mon, Tommy,” Billy says, eyes sharp on his face. “He wants it. Give it to him.” 

And Tommy’s always been a bit of a pushover, especially when it came to Steve, so. So, he does. 

He slicks himself up with lube and guides himself toward Steve’s hole– so pink, so wet, so perfect. He watches Billy withdraw a little and then starts pressing himself in. 

He groans at the tight heat of Steve when the head of his cock pops inside. Pants as Steve cries out, shaking his head, eyes tearing up. Pets over his thighs as Billy hushes him and tells him he’s doing _good_. 

Then, only when Billy nods, he keeps pressing in. Feels Billy’s cock pressed to his, hot and throbbing, as they both ease in, in, _in. _

_It’s perfect. _

Tommy shudders when they fully seat themselves in Steve. Wrapped up tight in the heat of him, _together_, so good. So fucking good. Tommy groans. 

“You okay, Stevie?” he asks. 

Steve doesn’t respond, at first. Just pants, eyes dazed on the ceiling. Billy kisses his shoulder. 

“Baby?” he asks. “Pretty boy?” 

Steve grunts, voice rough when he speaks. “M’okay. _Move_.” 

They do. Billy braces, more than anything, but Tommy– Tommy starts fucking, slow at first, in and out of Steve. Then faster. Then _faster_. 

Keeps going until Steve’s crying out each time. Until they’re all making noise, bucking and writhing together. Sweat rolling down their skin. Panting heavy, the air weighted and hot around them. 

When Steve tightens up, Tommy has to slow down. He has to still as Steve pulls taut and cries out, cumming against Tommy’s stomach and his own, clawing down Tommy’s shoulders. 

Tommy is quick to follow and he unloads into Steve. As the tightness, the heat, all becomes too much. 

When they all come down, Tommy is left holding Steve while Billy pads off to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth to clean them off. He’s dazed but satisfied. Both of them are. 

“That w’s fun,” Steve tells him, slurring a little, eyes half shut. “Should do it again.” 

Tommy grunts because _words_ are not happening right now. 

Steve grins a little; lopsided and sweet. “Want you in my mouth next time.” 

And Tommy– Tommy can’t help but want that, too. 


	5. harringrove; dressed up/costume - exhibitionism

Steve hates hazing. He’s pretty sure it’s illegal, but he’s not really positive. 

So, he doesn’t say anything, not when he’s stripped down and hosed out back by the older brothers. Not when they dry him off and shove him in a bathroom with women’s clothes. Not when he comes out and they smear lipstick on his mouth. Not even when they slap his ass and tell him what a pretty girl he makes. 

He only makes a fuss when they drag him and the other pledges out to a party, all in matching cheer leading uniforms, and they shove him onto the dance floor. 

“You’re not aloud off the floor until midnight,” they holler. 

“What if I’ve gotta take a piss?” Steve snaps back. 

All they do is cackle. The president leers. 

“Guess you better hold it.” 

And that’s that. 

If Steve wants in, wants to avoid punishment, he has to stay on the dance floor in this stupid outfit until midnight. He thought that, as a legacy, he wouldn’t have to put up with this shit. 

Not so much. And Steve hates it. 

There’s a low whistle from behind him about ten minutes in. Steve’s mostly been ignoring the giggling girls, the catcalls, the wandering hands– but then the asshole opens his mouth and Steve has to turn around because he knows that voice. 

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing.” 

Billy Hargrove, his high school rival, the bane of his fucking existence, is leering at him with a crooked grin. 

Steve crosses his arms. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“Aw, c’mon, Harrington.” Billy says, smooth and easy, pressing up close. “I’m just giving you a complement.” 

“Yeah, whatever, asshole,” Steve says, and then jerks back as Billy reaches up toward his face. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

“Easy, pretty boy.” Billy says, gaze straying. “Well. Pretty girl. Your lipstick is smudged.” 

Steve brings his hand up to his mouth and rubs at it, trying to get it off. Billy cackles. 

“You’re just making it worse, Harrington.” Billy says. “Bad time rushing?” 

“The worst,” Steve says. 

“Well, at least you can have a little fun, huh?” Billy asks. “You’re stuck out here, you might as well enjoy it. Come dance with me.” 

Steve’s positive, he’s sure, that Billy’s up to something. But, well, he’s got a fucking point. 

“Get me a drink, first.” 

Billy’s grin goes wide. “You got it.” 

***

Billy gets him as many drinks as he wants. Plies him with alcohol and throws in an occasional water in between. They dance until Steve’s sweating. Until he’s smiling and forgetting the fact that he’s being hazed and he’s dressed up like he’s starring in a bad porno. 

He doesn’t even mind when Billy gets his hands on his hips and starts grinding with him. Doesn’t mind the way he breathes heavy in his ear. Doesn’t mind when he drags Steve in close and Steve can feel how hard he is. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Billy tells him. 

And Steve– Well, Steve kind of feels hot. 

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Uh huh,” Billy says, and presses a quick kiss to Steve’s throat, like he’s not sure he’s gonna get away with that. “Always thought so. Couldn’t do shit about it.” 

Steve shivers. “Well, what are you gonna do about it, now?” 

Billy groans and pulls him in tighter. Grinds in slow circles with the beat. 

Then, he says: “I’m gonna get you off. Right here. On the dance floor.” 

Steve swallows. Thick and heavy. 

“Okay,” he says. 

Billy gets a hand on his ass. Gets them rocking, rutting, in time with the music. Steve clutches at his shoulders as his skirt rides up, up, up. As he feels Billy’s cock press to his hip through his pants. As his own presses to Billy’s thigh. 

Billy’s fingers bunch in the material of Steve’s skirt. His mouth finds his neck, biting and licking. Steve’s head swims. 

“You think people are watching?” Billy asks. “You think they know, pretty boy? That I’m getting you off, right here, just like this?” 

Steve jumps as he feels Billy’s fingers, rough and warm, slide between the cheeks of his ass underneath his skirt. Under the panties the brothers forced him into.

“Think I could finger you like this?” 

Steve whines. 

Billy groans and bucks against him. “Fuck, you like that? You want it, pretty boy?” 

Steve nods, clutching at Billy, pressing in closer. 

“Use your words, baby.” 

“Yes,” Steve hisses.

And then Billy’s fingers are slipping under his panties. Getting between his cheeks proper. Pressing at his rim. Teasing. Taunting. Touching. 

Steve bucks and cums, right then and there. 

Billy goes still, holding him tight, and breathing heavy in his ear. Steve blinks the stars out of his eyes and feels his face flood with heat. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m so–” 

“It’s midnight,” Billy says. “You wanna get out of here?” 

Steve pulls back, just enough to meet his gaze. 

Then, he says: “Yes. Please.” 

Billy grins.


	6. harringrove; daddy kink - omorashi - abo

Billy makes Steve drink a glass of water between each drink he has at the party. Watches him drink it down, throat bobbing, getting sloppier and sloppier as the night goes on. 

He’s got a _plan_. 

It’s a stupid plan. But it’s a plan. 

And it’s all coming together, especially when Steve tells him: “I’m gonna go use the restroom.” 

Billy gets a hand on his elbow and stops him. “No.” 

“What?” Steve frowns at him. 

“Not yet,” Billy says. 

Steve laughs a little, nose scrunching up. “Billy, I’m about to pop.” 

“Have another glass of water.” 

Steve frowns and shuffles closer. “What’re you doing?” 

“You said you wanted to know what it’s like,” Billy says, tugging him closer, until Steve’s flush against him and he can sneak a thigh between Steve’s, using a grip on his hips to press Steve’s pelvis to his own and he hisses; Billy bets he has to _go_. “What it’s like to slick up, what it’s like to be unable to control it.” 

Steve’s an alpha, just like Billy, but sometimes– sometimes he knows Steve wishes he weren’t. Lets Billy use too much lube, all the time, and call him his _sweet omega_. 

Steve’s throat works and he blinks once. Twice. “That’s not– Billy, that’s not the same.” 

“It is, a little,” Billy says. “Looked it up. Some kink webpage. Said it was a good way to get the idea of what it’s like to suddenly go into heat. But it’s gotta hurt, first. You’ll need the relief.” 

Steve shudders. “Billy. I dunno…” 

“You trust me, baby? You wanna be my omega, tonight?” Billy asks, low, so no one else can hear. 

Steve bucks a little against him. He’s breathless already. “Yes.” 

“Yes, what?” 

Steve’s face colors so _beautifully_. “Yes, daddy.” 

Grinning, Billy kisses at his temple. “Drink another glass of water.” 

When he lets Steve go, when Steve steps away, Billy watches him fill up a solo cup from the tap and drink it down. In his chest, something warm unfurls. 

***

Steve’s constantly squirming by the time they get in the car to go home. He’s biting his lip, even crossing and uncrossing his legs, throat working as he holds back sound after sound. 

When they get into the house, Steve whines and presses up against him. He’s _shaking_. 

“Please. Please, daddy, I can’t do it. I can’t– I can’t _hold it_.” 

“I know,” Billy grins, getting his arm around Steve’s waist and slipping a hand between them. “It’s okay, baby. We’re home, now. You can let go.” 

Steve’s eyes go _wide_. “Not _here_. The bathroom– I need, lemme use _the bathroom_.” 

“No,” Billy says and then _presses _at Steve’s cock through his pants, grin broadening as Steve jerks in his holds. “C’mon. Be a good little omega for daddy. Get wet for me.” 

“Billy– _Daddy_, this is– this is–” Steve’s shaking his head, but he’s rocking into his touch. 

It’s gotta _hurt_. It’s gotta ache, so bad. 

Billy presses _harder_. 

“Please, daddy, _please_,” Steve sobs, clutching at his shoulders, breath hitching and breaking. 

He’s a second from giving in. Billy _knows it. _

_“C’mon_, baby,” Billy croons. “Let go, for me.” 

It’s filthy, what he’s doing. What he’s trying to get Steve to do. But the _control_ Steve’s letting him have. The heady rush of desire he feels as Steve’s cheeks go pink and his eyes tear up. 

Billy grinds his palm against Steve’s cock and then– then Steve _shatters_. 

He bucks and squirms, cries out a little, and then _moans_. Long and low and sweet, as he releases, wet heat spreading under Billy’s palm as Steve _trembles _through it. 

“There you go,” Billy says, petting him through it as Steve quakes. “There you go, pretty boy.” 

Steve’s eyes roll back as slumps into Billy’s hold. His cock twitches under his touch. 

“Daddy,” he mumbles, against his shoulder. “Need it. Need your knot.” 

Billy presses a groan to Steve’s hair, burying his nose in it. “Let’s get cleaned up a bit and then I’ll give you _exactly _what you need, pretty omega.” 

Because Billy– Billy has a _plan_. 


	7. harringrove; gags - mirrors

“Keep your eyes up, pretty boy.” Billy mutters, in his ear, keeping up a steady pace. “Eyes on me.” 

Steve blinks, sweat rolling down his face, jaw aching. He lets out a muffled whine, bracing himself up enough to look. To do as he’s told. 

When he does, color floods his face. He looks _wrecked. _Hair a mess, sweat rolling down from his temple, totally bare, and mouth spread wide over the shiny red ball gag. There’s spit rolling down his chin. He looks _high_. 

Behind him, Billy’s still practically fully clothes. Even still has his boots on as he fucks in and out of him. 

“Look at how fuckin’ pretty you are,” Billy tells him. “So fucking gorgeous, taking me like this.” 

Steve moans. His body rocks under the force of Billy’s thrusts. His cock bobs between his legs. His fingers leave smears against the glass as Billy kicks his feet further apart and makes him sink over more, gripping his hips. 

Billy grins at him. “Hate it, don’t you? Seeing how much you like this. How much you _want _it. Want me.” 

Steve lets out a pitiful sound, teeth digging into the gag. Billy changes the angle, aims just right, and Steve’s world explodes into sensation. His eyes roll back, and he’s shaking when Billy gets a hand on his jaw. 

“Look, pretty boy.” Billy says, mouth at his ear. “You’re _drooling _for it.” 

Steve grunts and clenches up. Feels a thrill of triumph as Billy spits out a curse and bucks. 

Billy snarls a little, grip tightening, and then he’s fucking Steve hard and fast. The slap of skin on skin. The friction of his cock dragging over his prostate over and over making Steve twitch and spasm, making him keen on each breath. 

“C’mon,” Billy grunts. “_C’mon_. Cum for me.” 

He gets his hand on Steve’s cock. Starts stroking just as fast as he’s fucking him. Steve twists and his hips shudder and then he’s _lost_. 

Cumming hard, spilling into Billy’s fist. Onto the mirror. 

Billy groans and withdraws the second he knows he won’t hurt Steve. Shoves Steve to his knees and strokes himself off before cumming onto his face. Steve’s too dazed to do anything but take it. 

When he’s done, spent and tucked away again, Billy gets his fingers into Steve’s hair and turns his head toward the mirror. Makes him look at himself, cock soft between his thighs, face flush and covered in Billy’s cum. It’s terrible. 

It’s _fantastic_. 

“So goddamn pretty,” Billy tells him. 

Steve can’t help but let some small part of himself agree. 


	8. Billy/Mind Flayer; overstimulation

Billy can’t explain what it feels like when that thing takes over. Can’t explain the sensation of sliding down into that deep, dark place– not until he’s no longer _there_. No longer in his own skin. Not until he’s standing on a dark road, in the middle of nothing, ash falling from the sky. Not until he’s staring himself in the face. 

Then, he knows exactly what it feels like: _fear_. 

It always starts like this. Staring himself in the face, hearing something deeper, darker, _meaner_ coming out of his own mouth. Then there’s something wrapping around his ankles, his wrists, his waist. Something behind him, something _cold_, something he can’t see. 

Then, he watches himself get closer. Then, he stiffens as Billy– the other Billy– takes him by the jaw and smiles with too many teeth. 

“Poor little Billy Hargrove,” it says. “You’re all alone, here.” 

Then, there’s a mouth at his ear. A voice in his head. A thrumming all along his bones, like electricity, painful and _sweet_. 

“_But you’re always alone, aren’t you_?” 

It always starts like this. And it always ends with Billy bare, quaking, eyes rolling back. It ends with him crying out, over and over and _over_. It ends with him feeling like he’s on fire and so cold and being shocked and being held– all at once, all at the same time, every time. 

It always ends with that deep voice laughing. 

“_You’ll never be alone with me.” _


	9. harringrove; abo - force play

The hand over his mouth is big. Warm. The smell of _alpha_ floods his nose. It makes him quake. Makes a gush of slick slide down his between his thighs. 

The voice in his ear is low, unfamiliar, and Steve whines against his palm and _shakes_. “What’s a pretty little omega bitch like you doing in a place like this?” 

The alleyway between the arcade and the building behind it is dim. Narrow. Musty from the recent autumn rain. 

Steve’s eyes go wide when he feels the press of a hard cock against the curve of his ass. The guy behind him pins in him place easily. Grinds against him, even as Steve struggles and flails, clawing at his hands.

The guy hisses and gives Steve a strong _shake_. 

“Now, now,” he chuckles as Steve goes still. “No need for that. I’m just giving you what you need, aren’t I? A nice big knot, stretching you, filling you? You know you want it.” 

Steve keens in protest. He tries to shake his head, tries to push away from the wall he’s been pushed into, but the alpha stands firm. Holds him easy and muscles him against the brick until he’s still, again. 

“It’ll be good, promise,” he says, and Steve feels teeth press to his bonding spot and _nip_– playful and _terrifying_. “Pump you _real_ full, baby.” 

And then he’s undoing Steve’s pants, shoving them down just enough. Steve thrashing as a thumb dips between his cheeks and the guy _laughs_. 

“You already wet for me? Oh, _honey_.” 

The guy doesn’t linger with his fingers there. Steve can hear his zipper coming undone, feels it ring between his ears, tries to push away from the wall, brick biting at his palms. 

Then– _then, _there’s a cock, way too big than what Steve’s ready for, sinking in, in, _in_. Steve wails, biting at the guy’s palm, spasming as he’s spread wide. As he’s impaled, slowly but surely, on a stranger’s cock. 

He sobs as the guy sinks in to the hilt. As the alpha growls in his ear. There are tears running down his face and Steve’s whimpers are muffled, his heart pounding in his ears. 

“So _tight_ for me, baby.” The guy huffs, teeth at his ear, bucking in somehow _deeper_ and Steve _chokes _on a groan. “You a virgin, pretty omega?” 

Steve sobs again. 

The grip on his face tightens and then his other hand drops to Steve’s hip. Steve knows what’s coming, but it still doesn’t prepare him for the rush of a huge cock fucking in and out of him. For the way it knocks the breath out of him. For the way it makes his eyes roll back as he’s _filled_. 

A whine catches in his throat each time the guy behind him bucks forward. He trembles, taken and split wide, panting against his palm. Spasming and twitching, pleasure so goddamn overwhelming that it makes him dizzy. 

“Feel so good,” he presses words into Steve’s skin, pants them into his ear. “So tight for me. Gonna cum on my cock, baby? Gonna cum when I knot you?” 

Steve keens again, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Shame wells up in his chest. He is. He knows he is. He can’t fight it, not even a little, not with the slick slide of his dick inside of him. 

The guy bucks forward sharper, deeper. Steve gasps and _gasps_ and then pulls taut as his cock jumps and then spills out, spurting his release against the brick. 

“Fuck, _Steve_,” the guy– _Billy_– groans behind him and bites down _hard_ at his bonding point– not enough to break skin, but enough to make him gush all over again. “Yeah, baby, fuck– I’m close.” 

And then Billy’s burying in deep, hard, so that Steve cries out against his hand and quivers at the way it sends pleasure scattering along his nerve endings. Billy unloads inside of him, pumps him full, and then stays there.

There’s no knot. If it were Steve’s heat, that might’ve been a problem, but it’s _not_. They’ve got toys for that at home. For now, Billy’s cock is enough. Billy’s scent– sweet and _omega_– is enough. 

Steve moans, licking at Billy’s palm. 

Billy snickers. “Fuck, Steve,” he breathes and pulls his hand free. “You okay?” 

“Uh huh,” Steve says, nose wrinkling up as Billy pulls out of him and checks him over. “M’leaking.” 

Billy hums. “I can fix that. You wanna let me? Fuck, you were so goddamn good. Played the part so well.” 

Steve shudders. “Fix it?” 

Steve feels Billy press a smile of a kiss to his throat, smiling in return, and then chokes on his tongue as Billy drops to his knees behind him. 

“Ask and you shall receive,” Billy says. 


	10. harringrove; abo - knotting

When Billy’s rut starts to fade, he realizes he’s still tied to Steve. Steve locked into the tight heat of him, holding him against his chest as he leans back against the headboard. His face is pressed to Steve’s throat, to their bond, just breathing. 

“You with me?” Steve asks, soft, fingers trailing gentle over his arms where he’s got them wrapped around Steve’s waist. 

Billy grunts. 

Steve huffs a little, like a laugh, and cranes his head back to kiss at Billy’s temple. “Hey, there.” 

“Hey,” he mumbles, and then his hand is wandering. Finding its way to Steve’s belly, to the spot below his navel, pressing. 

Steve groans. “So full of you.” 

Billy hums, pleased. He feels Steve’s fingers lace with his. He kisses under Steve’s ear. 

“Knocked you right up,” Billy says, grinning when Steve snorts. “Breeding you, right now. Got you filled up and on my knot.” 

“You’re such an alpha stereotype,” Steve tells him, but he’s grinning, too.

They don’t say that Steve _can’t_ get knocked up. That he’s not built for it. It’s a nice fantasy to play with, especially during Billy’s rut. 

“You fucking love me,” Billy mutters, nipping at his bitemark. 

Steve shudders. “Yeah. I fucking love you.” 

He squeezes at Billy’s hand. Relaxes back against him. Just breathes. Billy lets his eyes fall shut as he enjoys the lingering pleasure. 

“Dumbass,” Steve says. 


	11. harringrove; abo

Steve’s shuddering, bent over the table, and gasping helplessly. He curls his fingers against the wood, looking for some kind of purchase, eyes practically crossing, biting back sound after sound. 

Billy’s knelt behind him. He’s got his hand on Steve’s thighs, keeping his legs spread, his face pressed between his cheeks, tongue working as spit slides down between his thighs. 

“Billy– fuck, Billy, _please–”_ Steve gasps, slapping a hand at the table. 

He’s been doing this for _hours_. Eating Steve out, never giving him quite what he wants– Billy, inside of him, knotting him. Biting at their bond mark. _Taking him_. 

Instead, he’s just been eating him out. Leaving his knot untouched. Leaving him burning and squirming and on the edge of _too much_. 

Billy’s tongue dips in deeper, presses just right, and Steve’s voice breaks as it pushes him over the edge again. His cock jumps and spurts, but there’s no goddamn _relief._

Billy pulls back, humming and pleased, biting at the swell of Steve’s ass as he jerks and whines. 

“Thought you wanted me to make you feel good, baby.” Billy says, and Steve’s too weak to bite back, slumped over the table and hazy with need. “I’m just trying to make you feel good.” 

“Please,” Steve slurs, cheek smooshed against the table, breath fogging the shiny wood. “Please, Billy.” 

“Need more?” Billy asks and Steve can _hear_ him grin. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll give you _all_ you need.” 

Steve groans, pitiful, and knows he’s not gonna get what he needs for a _while_. 


	12. fem!Harringrove; face-sitting

Stevie’s high. She’s high as _shit_. She keeps giggling, under her breath, at nothing. 

Billy adores her. The way her face is soft in ridiculous, nonsensical glee. 

There’s music playing, some poppy bullshit, but Billy doesn’t mind because Stevie’s swaying around her room in nothing but panties and Billy’s kind of in love with her. 

“Baby,” Billy says, resting a cheek on her palm, spread on on Stevie’s bed as she watches Stevie clumsily apply Billy’s red lipstick to her mouth in a mirror. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m being _you_,” she says, cheeky, and then plucks up Billy’s jacket. 

“_Hey_–” she starts to sit up, to stop Stevie from pulling it on because that thing is _sentimental_, but then Stevie’s got it over her shoulders and she’s popping the collar in the mirror. 

And– And _jesus_, she’s beautiful. Pale skin dotted here and there with moles, dark hair in soft waves around her face and shoulders, her cute little ass peeking out from under the hem of the jacket with just a hint of pink lace. Her pert, soft breasts just barely hidden under denim. Her face flush. Her smile wide. 

“Well?” she asks and gives a little twirl.

Billy swallows. “Get over here,” she says. 

Steve does. She watches as Billy pulls herself up on her bed a bit. Worries her lower lip between her teeth. Billy wants to kiss her _stupid_. 

“Take off your panties,” Billy says, breathless. “You’re gonna sit on my face and I’m gonna make you _sing_, princess.” 

Stevie blinks at her. Then, she shoves her panties down and steps out of them. She goes to shrug out of Billy’s jacket, and Billy’s quick to stop her. 

“No, Stevie,” she says, crooking a finger. “Just like that.” 

Stevie’s cheeks are pink, but then she’s crawling up onto the bed in nothing but Billy’s jacket. Crawling up over her, settling as Billy positions her over her chest, and shivering as Billy pets up her thighs. 

She’s already wet when Billy gets her tongue up inside her. She gasps, so lovely, and steadies herself with her hands on the headboard. Billy moans, licking into her heat, tasting her cunt and then diving deep. 

She makes the best noises. Keens and whines as Billy fucks her with her tongue, as she licks at her clit and sucks. Rocks and rides her face, panting, pussy flooding with slick. Billy _loves it_. 

By the time Stevie’s voice has pitched higher, sweeter, Billy’s jaw starts to ache. She knows Stevie’s close, though, the jacket off one shoulder as she ruts and tosses her head back. As she arches and moans, tightening up. 

Billy gets a thumb petting at her clit as she fucks her deep and perfect, tongue curling, and groans as Stevie’s thighs pull taut– as she cries out a sharp _Billy_– as she comes with a _gush_ and a _shudder_. 

Billy eases off, just a bit, and works her through it. Eases her back down from the high. Guides her back and over, until she’s on the bed and still twitching. 

“You’re so fucking hot, princess.” Billy tells her, pushing her hair back from her face, wiping off her chin with the back of her hand. “Could eat you out for hours.” 

Stevie smiles, dopey and sweet, and giggles. “You’d kill me.” 

“Yeah,” Billy smiles. “But it’d be pretty good, right?” 

Stevie beams and scoots in, catching Billy’s mouth, smearing it with red. “Yeah. It’d be pretty good.” 


	13. harringrove; breathplay/choking

Billy doesn’t expect it. 

Doesn’t expect the way Steve’s eyes go wide or the way his pupils blow out. The way his lips part on a gasp. The way his face goes flush. 

He doesn’t expect any of it as he shoves him against the lockers, hand at Steve’s throat, pressing in close and sneering into his face. 

But when he sees it– fuck, when he sees it, he can’t goddamn help himself. 

He dips in and catches Steve’s mouth. Licks right past his lips, his teeth, and _squeezes_. Catches Steve’s moan on his tongue and groans right back. 

He shuffles in closer, until it’s sticky, sweaty skin on skin, nothing but their gym shorts keeping them from touching all over. He can feel the way Steve’s cock kicks up against his thigh. Presses it in tight and grips Steve’s hip, gets him grinding on it. 

When he pulls back to meet Steve’s wide eyes, he nearly breaks. Because Steve’s gasping as he eases up his hold, mouth open and ruined, eyes so _dark_. He looks _fucked_. It’s _glorious_. 

“You like that, pretty boy?” he asks, voice low, shaking. 

All the anger has bled right out of him. In its wake is _want_. 

Steve’s hand comes up, fingers trembling, and curl loose around Billy’s wrist. He doesn’t pull, doesn’t tug, just– guides. Moves Billy’s grip, just a little, until it fits better against the steady work of his throat. 

It goes right to Billy’s cock. Makes his head spin. He grunts and _presses_, leans his weight into Steve and watches his eyes roll back. Feels him buck and works him through the shuddering movements. 

“Fuck,” Billy breathes, over and over. “Fuck, _fuck_, god _damn it_.” 

And then he’s kissing him, again. Stealing what little breath Steve has right out of his mouth. Rocking with him and holding him tight. Working against him. _With him._

When Steve cums, he makes a quaking sound. A half sob of a thing. Billy swallows it down and keeps rocking until he can follow him right over the edge. 

When they’re done, when they’re just standing there, panting against each other, Billy keeps his hand on Steve’s throat. Feels him swallow. 

“So,” Steve rasps, and Billy shivers at the sound of his voice. “That was something.” 

Billy– Billy just laughs. 


	14. harringrove; creampie - knotting

The bed keeps groaning underneath them. Springs creaking, wood knocking against the wall. 

Steve’s skin is glistening with sweat. His hair clings to his forehead, to the back of his neck. He clutches at the sheets and groans as Billy drives in hard. Fills him up so good and then withdraws. 

Outside, the moon is almost full. Billy’s panting, half mindless, just driving in over and over. Seeking out his release as it keeps evading him. 

“Gonna fill you up so good, baby.” Billy says, practically growls, bending over Steve’s back and pressing his face to his throat. “Gonna knot you. Mate you. Make you _mine_.” 

Steve whines. He feels like they’ve been going for _so long_. 

His arms gave out a while ago. He’s face down, ass up, as Billy fucks him. As Billy _uses _him. He pants against the bedding, jerking forward every time Billy snaps inward. Grunting and moaning. 

Billy’s already so big inside of him. He doesn’t think he can take much more. 

Billy’s rhythm falters. Stutters. Steve sobs as he drives in _harder_. 

“Please,” he pants, dizzy, on fire. “Please, Billy, _please_.” 

Billy groans. 

He snaps in and grinds deep. Steve can _feel_ him cum. Can feel the sticky, wet heat of it. His eyes roll back as his own cock jumps and spurts, spilling out onto the sheets. 

Then– Then he feels Billy get _bigger_. Feels his knot swell and press and press and Steve cries out, sharp, kicking his feet. 

Bent over him, Billy hushes him and kisses at his throat. Pets at his hips. Grinds in _impossibly deeper_. 

“Take it, pretty boy.” Billy mutters, peppering his skin with kisses. “You can take it.” 

He does, but barely. It’s all _so much_. 

His eyes roll back again. He thinks he blacks out from the pressure alone. Knows another orgasms sweeps through him, dry and pitiful, as Billy knots him and mouths at his throat. 

When he can finally breathe again, Billy is still holding him. They’re on their sides, Billy still tied inside of him, fingers dragging over his skin. 

“How you doing?” Billy asks, voice rough. 

“Tired,” Steve mumbles. “But good. How long…?”

Billy moves a little and they both hiss. 

“Not long.” Billy tells him. 

He’s right. It’s only a few more moments of holding each other, of coming back down, covered in sweat and the light of the moon, until Billy’s knot eases and he starts to withdraw. 

Slow. So slow. 

Steve still winces a little. 

From behind him, he hears Billy groan. Lets him shift Steve onto his belly. Jumps as he feels Billy thumb at the cum leaking out of him and press it back _in_. 

“Knew you could take it, pretty boy.” Billy kisses at his shoulder. “Fucking _dripping_ with it.” 

Steve hides his face. “Dick.” 

Billy huffs out a little laugh. “Yeah. Love you, too.” 

Steve doesn’t let Billy see it, but he smiles. 


	15. harringrove; daddy kink - forced feminization - spanking

Steve’s head is _swimming_ when Billy gets him over his lap. When he shoves up the pleated skirt he forced him into. When he rubs at his ass through the sheer panties he put Steve in. 

Steve clutches at the sheets, make-up already smeared from the way Billy kissed him hard. His face burns, humiliation thrumming through him, boiling low in his gut because even after Billy doing him up and telling him what a _pretty girl_ he is, Steve’s _hard_. 

“Billy–” 

A hand fists in his hair and _pulls_. “What was that, baby girl?” 

Steve shudders, squirming over Billy’s thighs. His throat tightens and then he goes lax. “Daddy, _please_.” 

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Billy croons, petting through his hair, easing the sting. “You’ve been a bad girl. You know what we have to do with bad girls.” 

Steve squeezes his eyes shut. His cock _throbs_. 

Then, Billy’s peeling his panties down, until they’re bunched around his knees. Until his ass is bare and Billy’s petting over skin. 

Until Billy’s hand is gone. 

It lands against the curve of his ass _hard_. Steve yelps, rocking forward, cock pinched against Billy’s thigh and friction electric up his spine. 

Billy laughs. “That’s one. Nineteen more to go. Count for me.” 

“Yes, daddy,” Steve breathes. 

“Good girl,” Billy croons, and then he’s spanking him. 

It’s an uneven rhythm. Billy’s aim changes up; the way he hits, how hard it is, and Steve can’t keep the thread. He counts, jerking every time because he never knows how Billy’s hand is going to land, voice coming out breathier and breathier until he’s gasping out. 

“–_eighteen_, daddy.” Steve kicks his feet a little, whining, and he’s _so fucking close _as Billy pets over hot, red skin. “Thank you, daddy.” 

“Almost there,” Billy says, fingers gentle in his hair.

There are tears running down Steve’s face. “Yes, daddy.” 

The next blow is so hard it knocks the breath right out of him. Makes him sob, head hanging forward as he whimpers out a soft _nineteen, daddy, thank you, daddy_. Billy groans. 

“Doing so good, baby girl.” Billy tells him. “You’re gonna cum for daddy on this one, okay? Can you do that?” 

Steve nods, throat working and working. “_Yes_, please, daddy– _please_–” 

It comes unexpectedly. Hard and fast, the sound of skin on skin ringing in his ears. He cries out, sharp, and he cums across Billy’s thighs as the skin of his ass throbs and burns. His eyes roll back. His toes curl. Billy rubs over the sensitive skin and coos at him. 

“So good, baby.” Billy tells him. “You did so good.” 

Steve nods, dazed and hazy, going lax for him. 

Billy hums. “But you didn’t count it out. You know what that means?” 

Steve _whines_. “Please, _daddy_–” 

“Five more.” 


	16. harringrove; bondage - face-sitting

It takes a little while, for Billy to get Steve exactly as he wants him. He checks in a lot, as he’s getting him in place, Steve on his back breathing slow and watching. 

“You’re lucky I’m flexible,” Steve mutters, grin crooked, as Billy finishes binding Steve’s ankles to his thighs, knees permanently bent and spread open.

“Yes, I am,” Billy smiles, kissing the inside of one of his thighs. “Up we go.” 

He helps Steve up onto his knees. He can see the strain in the way Steve’s nose wrinkles up. 

“You good?” he asks.

“Uh huh,” Steve nods. “Just a little… y’know.”

“At least I’m not hog tying you,” Billy says and Steve huffs out a little laugh as he nods again. “Hands behind your back, baby.” 

Steve balances precariously as Billy ties his forearms together. He’s keeping a steady cadence to his breath; Billy knows this is hard for him. Letting Billy make him so vulnerable. 

He can’t move like this. Can’t get away. Can’t fight whatever Billy wants to do to him. 

Which is the point. Because Steve, as a general rule, gets flustered and embarrassed in bed sometimes. Especially with what Billy wants to do. 

“You’re all ready,” Billy tells him, kissing his cheek. “Need a second?” 

“Nuh uh,” Steve shakes his head, eyes half closed. “Just… do it.” 

Steve balked the first time Billy said he wanted to eat him out. Drew a hard line, told him _no_, rather emphatically. But Billy’s _wanted_. Wanted to have Steve squirming and moaning on his tongue. Wanted to make him lose it, just like that. 

Billy easily manhandles Steve into place. Gets him straddling his chest as Billy lays back against the pillows, and then gets his hands on Steve’s hips and tugs him back. 

Steve’s trembling. Tense. His breath comes in soft huffs and bursts. 

Billy can’t see his face, but he knows it’s red. 

“No hiding,” Billy says, tapping his hip. “Can’t cover your mouth. Can’t pull away. Just gotta take it.” 

Steve shudders. “Billy…” 

“I’m gonna make you scream, pretty boy.” 

And then he’s pulling Steve back and Steve literally _has_ to let his weight settle or risk toppling right over. Billy spreads his cheek, groans, and presses in. Gets his mouth and his tongue right where he wants it. 

He hears the way Steve sucks in a breath. Hears the way it catches. Hears the way he _moans_ as Billy licks at his rim. 

Billy locks his arms around Steve’s thighs and hips and goes to work. Works the muscles loose with his tongue, fucks Steve with it, and coasts on the heat of him, the way he flutters, the way he chokes on bitten back mewls and moans. The way he _rocks_. 

It’s not long before there’s spit rolling down his face. Before Steve’s voice has gone high, punched out, as he trembles and squirms as much as he can. Before Steve’s saying his name over and over and _over_.

“Billy– I can’t– _Billy, please–” _

Billy keeps going. Presses in deeper. Gets a thumb, pressing in with his tongue, spreading Steve wider. Groans as Steve lets out something like a wail and curls over as he cums in spurts over Billy’s chest and stomach. 

Keeps licking him out as Steve starts trying to get away. 

Billy grins as he pulls back, neck a little tight, jaw a little sore. Holding Steve close; not letting him get away. Never letting him get away. 

Steve’s panting and trembling. 

“See?” Billy asks. “That wasn’t so bad.” 

Steve shudders. “Point received.” 

“I don’t think it is, yet.” Billy hums, petting over Steve’s stomach. “But it will be. When I’m done with you.” 

It’s music to Billy’s ears when he tugs Steve back again, presses his tongue in again, and hears Steve gasp out: “oh, _fuck_.” 


	17. harringrove; praise kink - panty kink

Steve’s worn panties before. He’s enjoyed it, probably too much, but this? This is so much _better_. 

Well. Maybe not _better_. But different. In the most perfect way. 

“You look…” Steve can’t help but stare. 

Billy crosses his arms, a bit of pink on his cheeks, looking away. “Shut the fuck up, Harrington. You happy now?” 

“Definitely,” Steve says.

Because Billy? Billy’s wearing a pair of lacy, blue boyshorts and he’s–

“Gorgeous,” Steve breathes, padding close, letting the backs of his fingers trail down Billy’s stomach, watching the skin jump. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” 

Billy grunts. “Seriously, shut up. You don’t gotta say that shit–” 

“It’s true,” Steve smiles at him, taking his jaw in hand, turning his face to make Billy meet his gaze. “You’re beautiful, Billy.” 

Billy’s jaw flexes under his fingertips. “You like it?” 

“I love it,” Steve nods, throat working. “We should get you more.” 

Billy snorts, but shrugs a little. “I prefer them on _you_.” 

“Both is good,” Steve beams. “You wear them, I wear them– I’m not gonna complain. Not if I get to see you like this.” 

Billy stares at him. Those blue eyes search his. 

Then, he’s got Steve by the hips. “Get on the bed. I’m gonna ride you until your eyes roll back.” 

Steve is quick to obey. 


	18. harringrove; dressed up/costume - deepthroating

“You look so pretty on your knees, baby.” Billy tells him.

It’s true. Steve’s a fucking vision, kneeling in front of him, in that stupid sailor suit. Billy’s had _dreams_ about pulling those shorts down to his thighs and bending him over. 

But this? This is just as good. 

He fists his hand in the little red knot at the front of his shirt and _tugs_. Steve jerks, bracing his hands on Billy’s thighs, looking up at him with those big eyes. 

“What do you want?” Steve asks. Prissy, pouting, _bitchy_. 

He’s always like this after a long shift. When Billy kissed him earlier, he tasted sweet, like ice cream. 

“I wanna fuck that pretty mouth,” Billy says, grinning with all his teeth, tongue sliding between them. “Open up for me?” 

Steve– Steve doesn’t even hesitate. He’s so fucking _perfect_. 

Opens his mouth and waits as Billy shoves his red shorts down. Sticks his tongue out a little as Billy fists his cock and pumps over it a few times. Gets it nice a hard. 

Then, starts feeding it into Steve’s mouth. Past the spread of his lips. Groaning as Steve _lets him_. 

“Not gonna go easy,” Billy warns him; he’s wound tight, needs to let loose, needs to _use_ Steve. “Just let me do all the work. Relax.” 

That’s a little mean of him to say. Because Steve’s the one with his mouth getting fucked as Billy gets a hand in that ridiculous hair and starts guiding him. Because Billy plans to bury in, hilt deep, and watch Steve choke. 

But Steve stares up at him, eyes dark and big, fingers flexing over his thighs. He does push, doesn’t pull, just lets Billy guide him. 

He’s so fucking perfect. A goddamn _treat_. 

Billy grunts as he sets a rhythm. Shallow but quick. In and out, watching as Steve’s lips wrap around him, shiny and pink. Groaning as drool rolls down Steve’s chin. 

There’s a fire, burning low in his gut, and he presses at the back of Steve’s head. Watches as Steve’s lashes flutter, as his pretty doe eyes go wide, as he gags and shudders– fighting it, just a bit, and then jerking as Billy presses and presses and _presses_.

Until he’s buried in _deep_. Until he’s feeling the way Steve’s throat works around his cock. Until Steve’s eyes are rolling back as he chokes around him. 

“Fuck,” Billy breathes, then withdraws, letting Steve gasp. “_Fuck_.” 

And then he’s pressing back _in_. 

Steve lets out a pitiful sound. His nails bite blunt at the skin of Billy’s thighs. But he still lets it happen. Lets Billy start pressing in, _all the way_, and hold him there before dragging Steve off his cock again. Lets Billy pick up the pace, choking and gagging, tears rolling down his face–

Billy holds him down when he cums. Unloads, down his throat, and moans as Steve coughs, trying to swallow, and _whines_ as cum dribbles out one of his nostrils and down his chin. 

He’s still riding the high when he pulls out. Steve gasps and gasps, face red, mouth ruined. Billy thumbs cum off his chin and feeds it into his mouth mouth, smearing it over his tongue. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Billy mutters. 

Steve stares up at him, dazed. There’s spit and cum on his sailor suit. 

Billy wants to keep him like that forever. 


	19. harringrove; humiliation - praise kink

Steve shivers as Billy presses flush to his back. He squeezes his eyes shut tight, sucks in a breath, and holds it. 

He can feel the heat of him. The danger of it; the threat to burn, burn, _burn_. He chokes on a sound as Billy takes him by the hips and tugs him back. As he presses his face to Steve’s neck and breathes. 

“You’re already hard, aren’t you?” Billy asks, voice a low rumble, and Steve swallows thick as Billy starts to laugh. “Such a fucking slut for it.” 

Steve feels color flood his face. His hands are shaking as Billy reaches around and palms him through his jeans. 

Steve’s head hangs forward as he moans. 

“Jesus, you’re easy,” Billy sneers, disgust ringing between Steve’s ears. “Bet I could get you off just like this, you’re so hard up for it.” 

With trembling fingers, Steve covers his mouth as Billy grinds the heel of his palm against his dick. His hips jump forward, lurching into the touch, and Billy’s laughing at him again. 

“You need it, pretty boy? Need me to get you off?” Billy asks, rubbing at him, winding an arm over his chest and tugging his hand away from his mouth, clutching at his wrist with a grip that bruises. “Say it.” 

Steve shakes his head. His eyes are burning, tears needling at the inner corner, pleasure jumping up his spine as his stomach twists. 

Billy squeezes him through his pants. “_Say it_.” 

“I– I need it,” Steve gasps out, free hand going for Billy’s wrist as he pets over the tent in Steve’s jeans. “I need it.” 

Billy’s movements grow more steady. More firm. Steve’s head lulls back against his shoulder. Billy’s mouth finds his ear, voice low and crooning and _mean_. 

“Who woulda thought, huh? King Steve, a slut. Cock-hungry little bitch.” 

Steve _whines_. 

“C’mon,” Billy jostles him a little. “C’mon, pretty boy, cum for me. Like a bitch in heat, huh? Show me what a slut you are.” 

Steve tries to fight it. Tries to hold off. But Billy’s calling him _slut_, calling him _bitch_, calling him _pretty boy_ and Steve _can’t_. 

He shatters apart with a little keen. Bucks and bucks, spilling out into his pants, and mortification _washes _through him as Billy slows his touch down. As he holds him up; arms strong as Steve’s legs go weak. 

“That’s it,” Billy hushes him, kissing the shell of his ear. “So good, baby. You did so fucking good.” 

Steve pulls his hands free, hiding his face in them. “_Jesus_.” 

“It’s okay,” Billy’s smiling against his cheek, still petting him through his pants. “It’s okay, baby. That was perfect. You were perfect, yeah?” 

Steve nods a little. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, baby.” Billy says, pulling his hands away, turning Steve face and kissing him. “Absolutely breathtaking.” 


End file.
